


Target

by miitgaanar



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-10-13 11:29:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miitgaanar/pseuds/miitgaanar
Summary: Steve Rogers is in the wind, and he called one person before he vanished.But when Alexander Pierce doesn't get the answers he wants out of Cassie Theron, he decides it's time for a bit of muscle to be called in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm considering expanding this into a multichapter fic. I just gotta. Y'know. Do it.

The afternoon sun streamed into the pristine, blindingly white office in muted, golden rays, the floor to ceiling windows tinted slightly to keep the room’s occupants comfortable while still providing the privilege of natural light.  Were it not for the fluorescent lights installed overhead, Alexander Pierce would have been shrouded in shadow, a sinister figure straight out of an old spy movie.  All he was missing was a white, fluffball of a cat to complete the ensemble.

But something told Cassie he wouldn’t find that image all too amusing.

“So.” Pierce sat across from her, his hands folded in front of him atop his too-neat desk, the deep gray of his suit the only respite from the ivory decor.  “I received word that Captain Rogers contacted you not too long ago.  Now, Miss Theron, you’re not in any trouble, but we really need to know exactly what was said.  It’s a matter of national security.”

Cassie shifted in the uncomfortable metal office chair, the feeble cushioning clearly more for decoration than anything else.  “Has something happened to Steve?”

“That’s what we need to find out,” he said, his head tilted in the kindly manner of a father speaking to a frightened child.  “He seems to have gotten himself involved in something rather… questionable.  Caused quite a bit of a stir on his way out of here before we could properly question him.  Considering you were the last person he spoke to before he went off the grid, your cooperation would be an invaluable asset to our investigation.”

 _Trust no one._   Steve Rogers’ words echoed loudly in her head, overcoming any other thought she had as she sat before the World Security Council Secretary.  It wasn’t long after Steve’s call came through that SHIELD operatives had tracked her down, a long line of black SUVs pulling up next to her on a crowded D.C. street as several agents filed out of the heavy steel doors.  

“Miss Theron,” one had said, the deep purple of fresh bruises beginning to blossom along his cheekbones, his smile tight and none too friendly.  “We’re gonna need you to come with us.”

She was no fool, it didn’t take much to convince her to go quietly.

“Mr. Pierce.  Sir—”

“Mr. Pierce is fine, dear,” he interjected, a dreadfully gentle smile on his lips.

She smiled stiffly in return, her back ramrod straight in that cursed chair.  “Mr. Pierce, I can’t really say I’m entirely clear on what’s going on here.  Are you trying to insinuate that Steve Rogers, the long celebrated, recently brought back from the dead war hero, has betrayed this country?”

“Now, now,” Pierce laughed, a dry, humorless sound.  “I said no such thing.  But you’re a smart girl, you know how military protocol works, I’m sure you can understand any concerns we have over Captain Rogers suddenly deciding to go to ground with hardly any word to the proper channels.”

She pursed her lips, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.  Condescension ran rampant among men of power, especially where women of none were concerned, but that didn’t make his base attempts at placating flattery any less infuriating.

“All I mean to say is,” he continued, pushing back from his desk and coming around the front to lean against its edge, his arms crossed over his chest as he loomed over her smaller, seated form.  “Any information we can glean about Rogers’ movements would be immensely helpful.  You would be doing your country proud, and could very well help us in saving Captain America’s life.”

“Does this have anything to do with that big car chase yesterday?” she asked, a hint of fear entering her voice.  She hadn’t seen Steve since early yesterday morning, and the details surrounding the incident were foggy at best.  Most news stations were touting a drunk driver running rampant, but Cassie had lived in New York City her entire life.  She knew a terrorist attack when she saw one.

A muscle flickered along Pierce’s jaw, straining that gentle, inviting smile.  “Now what would make you think that, Miss Theron?”

“Mr. Pierce,” she began, frustration bleeding into her words as she leaned forward in her seat, “you’re telling me that I was the last person to hear from a man that I consider a very dear friend of mine.  I am well aware of the fact that his line of work is dangerous at best, so a very long, very destructive car chase with an unidentified motive happens less than a day before this friend goes missing?  I’m inclined to think there’s more to this than what you’re telling me.”

Pierce’s eyes grew cold, his mouth thinning into a hard, straight line as he stared down at her, his posture far more rigid than it had been a moment ago.  “Your father was a US Marine, was he not?”

Cassie flinched, shrinking back slightly as she gaped blankly up at him, whatever bravado she had mustered well and truly cowed.  “E-Excuse me?”

“He didn’t do much, of course,” he said, pushing off of the desk’s edge and taking his seat once more, that hard gaze locked on her.  “It was peacetime, but he still made it to corporal before his four years were up.  He even got himself an honorable discharge.  I’d imagine he’s rather proud of that.  Most Marines are.”

A terrible, all consuming dread encased her heart, her lungs seizing painfully in her chest as Steve’s voice spoke to her from the dark recesses of her mind.

_Trust no one._

She hadn’t really had much time to give the ominous warning any thought, and he had offered no further explanation.  Minutes after the line went dead, she had been packed into an SUV and marched into Pierce’s office, where she sat alone and under a veritable spotlight for questioning.  Any stray musings about the words themselves leaned more on the side of concern, wondering what could have happened to force Steve to be so frustratingly vague.  She hadn’t even begun to consider who those words could apply to.

Until now.

“Mr. Pierce,” she rasped, her throat dry.  “I’m not sure I understand what this has to do with anything.”   _Or why you have this information at all_.

“Because, my dear,” he said, his voice hard, “I’m sure your father told you all about the inner workings of the military.  How you follow orders to the letter and without question.  You don’t stop to collect the puzzle pieces and see the bigger picture, you simply do as you’re told.”

“I’m not a soldier.”  Her tongue felt frighteningly thick and unwieldy, the flesh chafing like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth.

“Of course not.”  Pierce propped his elbows up on his desk, his fingers steepled before him like a chess master before he proclaimed a check-mate.  “But as a private citizen, there is only so much information you are authorized to be privy to.  I, however, as a loyal servant to the welfare of my country and its people, am authorized to be privy to whatever I deem necessary.”  The corner of his mouth quirked upward in a mirthless, half-smile.  “Do you understand, Miss Theron?”

The vague sense of trepidation that had lurked in the back of her mind from the moment Steve’s voice had filtered through her phone finally began to take shape, its form monstrous and terrifying as she realized the gravity of her situation.

 _Trust no one._   Not even SHIELD itself.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she said, fighting to keep her voice calm, her gaze steady and unperturbed, even as her hands trembled where they lay folded in her lap.  “But I’m afraid the call isn’t going to be much help to you.”

He raised a single, gray eyebrow, a politician’s mask of careful disinterest sliding into place.  “Oh?”

Cassie shrugged, hoping that she didn’t look as tense as she felt.  “I’m sorry, but it really wasn’t much of a call at all.  Steve did call me, yeah, but when I answered it, his voice was all garbled, the sound cutting in and out to the point that I could barely make out anything he was saying.”  She kept her gaze locked on his, careful not to let her eyes drift from his face.  “I had assumed it was the wind, or maybe a bad connection—the cell service can be terrible in certain parts of the city—but the line went dead before I could even think to tell him that I couldn’t hear him.”

“Did you call him back?”  The words were sharp, commanding, an officer speaking to his subordinate.  A king to his subject.  A master to his servant.

“I tried, but it went straight to voicemail every time.”  She shrugged again, trying to convey a bit of shame in the movement.  It wasn’t a lie, she _had_ tried to call him back.  “It wasn’t long after that that you guys picked me up.”

Pierce leaned back in his chair, the joints creaking and squeaking as he reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.  “And you’re sure you couldn’t make out what he was saying?  Nothing?  Not a single word?”

“No.”  She shook her head, biting at her lower lip before continuing, “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Pierce.  Truly, I am, but I’m sure you can understand my concerns considering the extremely vague nature of the situation.”

For a long, drawn out moment, Pierce stared at her, his lips pressed together into a thin line.  A rush of terror flowed through her veins, her fingers growing numb with panic as she endured his scrutiny.  What if he didn’t believe her?  Would he have her arrested?  Tortured?  Or would he just have her killed right here in the middle of his spotless, bone white office?

With that last thought, she was at once both grateful and pissed to all hell that Steve had called her at all.

After an agonizing few heartbeats, Pierce sat up in his chair, a stiff, strained smile on his face once more.  “Of course, Miss Theron, of course.  Rogers is a good friend of yours.  All of this,” he waved his hand, indicating the room around him, “probably did nothing to assuage your concerns for him after that rather ominous call.”

Cassie had to physically restrain the sigh of relief that begged to escape her, choosing instead to nod her head thoughtfully as she forced a small laugh.  “That’s for sure.”

Pierce pushed himself to his feet, the wheels of his chair clattering loudly on the tile flooring as he leaned over his desk, hand extended toward her.  “It’s a shame we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.”

Cassie all but jumped out of her chair, only too glad to end this interrogation.  She had to get as far from here as possible.  “I bet you say that a lot.”

“I guess you’d be right,” he chuckled, though the sound was hollow.  He clasped her hand in his, his grip tight—perhaps a little too tight.  “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Miss Theron.  I can see why Rogers is so fond of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Cassie said, an awkward laugh slipping through her lips.  He still hadn’t let go of her.  “I’m glad you can.  Can’t say I’ve ever understood why he’s put up with me these last few years.”

“A clever young woman like you?” His grip on her tightened a fraction.  “I’d bet there’s someone in his past you remind him of.”

Another awkward laugh pushed its way up from her parched throat, the underlying threat to the words not missed on her.  “Well, Mr. Pierce, I don’t want to take up any more of your time.  You probably have your hands full with the search for Cap.”   _Please, let go of me._

“Too true, too true.”  With a final shake of her hand, he released her, a politician’s dispassionate smile upon his lips.  “And, please, if you can think of anything regarding Rogers,  _anything_  at all,” he paused, leveling her with a look that sent a serpentine shiver slithering down her spine, “you know where to find me.”

A shaky smile and a nod was all Cassie could manage, her head throbbing in time with the pounding of her heart.

“I would show you out,” he said, sliding back into his seat, “but, as you said, I have some work to do.”

Cassie knew a dismissal when she heard one and promptly turned on her heel with little more than a croaked “Goodbye,” fully aware of the piercing gaze that bore into her as she fled the confines of the office. 

 

* * *

 

Darkness loomed by the time Cassie finally made it back to her hotel room, the encroaching night chasing away the last light of the sun as it sank beneath the horizon.  The streets had still been teeming with life as she made her way through the automatic glass doors leading to the lobby, a very large part of her hesitant to cross the threshold.  She had spent the better part of the remaining daylight wandering the more well-known areas of D.C., the places tourists flocked to and the shopping centers residents frequented, playing the part of a curious visitor in an unfamiliar city.  More than once she had to duck into a storefront and away from any prying eyes just to catch her breath, to attempt to still the near constant trembling of her hands, to slow the erratic beat of her heart.  

SHIELD may be watching her every step, tracking her every movement, but she knew they’d be hesitant to do anything rash in broad daylight and in full view of the public, especially when they had no actual evidence she knew anything.

Which she didn’t.  Not really, anyway.  All she knew was they were not to be trusted and Steve Rogers was in the wind because of something related to that fact.  It was all very vague and absolutely terrifying, especially if that little meeting with Pierce was any indication.

Cassie closed the door to her room behind her before leaning against its cool, sturdy surface, the heel of her palm pressed to her forehead as a wave of exhaustion overtook her.  Jesus.  What had Steve gotten her into?

Taking a deep, steadying breath through her nose, she pushed off of the door before carefully toeing off her shoes, her feet aching from the miles she had trekked just to avoid the solitude of her hotel room.  If she was being honest, she wished she could still be out there wandering the streets, maybe even ducking into the occasional crowded bar to keep herself surrounded by people, but she was well aware of the dangers that followed a woman walking the streets alone at night under normal circumstances, let alone the added possibility of a government agency looking to keep her quiet.

A near hysterical chuckle bubbled up from the depths of her abdomen, her vision blurring as tears welled up in her eyes.  Oh, this was so fucked up.  So very impossibly fucked up.  She wasn’t a spy or a specially crafted super-soldier, she had no training to fall back on, no instincts beyond the most basic ‘fight or flight’ urges she had been suppressing from the moment she left Pierce’s office.

She was just a girl.  A very stupid girl who couldn’t even convincingly lie to the man who was likely leading the manhunt for Captain America right now.

Cassie roughly wiped at her eyes, growling in frustration as she paced the length of the room, the carpeting soft and yielding beneath her feet, her every footstep muted even in the oppressive silence permeating the air.  She should have told Pierce _something_.  Anything.  She should have said that Steve called asking if she wanted to grab dinner, or when she was heading back to New York.  Or maybe she should have told the truth and played dumb, which wouldn’t have been too hard to do, quite honestly.  It wasn’t like Steve had expounded on his cryptic little warning.

But all of that called for quick thinking and a level head under pressure, none of which she had exactly been blessed with.

God, she was so stupid.  Stupid, stupid,  _stupid_.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Cassie paused in her pacing long enough to force herself to sit at the foot of the king sized bed, groaning faintly in relief as she stretched her aching legs out in front of her.  Despite the exhaustion settling into her bones, a nervous energy still pumped wildly through her veins, making it impossible for her to sit still.  She alternated between tapping her fingers along her thigh and jiggling her foot, her heart beating uncomfortably fast in her chest as she stared blankly at the curtained windows before her.  

It was the not knowing that was eating her alive, the anticipation.  She wasn’t even sure of what to anticipate, what to fear.  For all she knew, Pierce had completely forgotten about her as soon as she left his office, and she had spent the whole day fretting over nothing.

Cassie scoffed.  As if she could actually be  _that_ lucky.

Shaking her head, she reached into her jeans pocket to pull out her cell phone, staring down at the LED lock screen for what had to be the thousandth time that day.  The time display read 8:03pm, with quite a few unread and ignored texts from friends back in New York clogging up the screen.  She scrolled through them again, searching out Steve’s name in the dozens of notifications, hoping in vain that he had managed to reach out to her somehow.

Another frustrated sigh escaped her as she tossed the phone aside, the small device bouncing a few times on the plush mattress before coming to rest at the opposite end near the headboard.  It was stupid to hope, anyway.  Even she knew that SHIELD had likely hacked her phone the second they saw Steve called her.  The fact that all of those messages remained unanswered was probably setting off a million alarms in their headquarters, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.  Besides, if she didn’t pretend everything was all right, her family would have reason to file a missing person’s report if Pierce decided to make good on his threats.

Bile burned its way up the back of her throat, its acidic tang coating her tongue as her stomach knotted painfully in her gut.  The panic that had receded slightly surged with a vengeance, slowly wearing away at the tenuous grasp she had upon the terror begging to run rampant through her body.  She couldn’t think like that.  She would be fine.  There was no reason for her not to be.  Besides, what could they possibly gain by coming after her?

Then again, what did they stand to lose by swiping her off the board altogether?

Pushing herself to her feet, Cassie all but bolted toward the bathroom, hardly noticing the icy bite of the tile floor on her bare feet as she turned on the faucet, running the cold water in the white porcelain sink until she was sure it was perfectly frigid.  Just the sound of running water helped beat back the walls that threatened to close in around her, the cool tile flooring managing to ground her as she forced herself to  _breathe_ , to push against the intrusive thoughts that continued to claw their way to the surface from the very depths of her mind, that whispered of the fate awaiting her in a small, dark cell beneath SHIELD headquarters.

She cupped her hands beneath the faucet and splashed a good amount of the freezing water on her face, relishing in the sharp, burning sensation that pierced her skin.  It wasn’t much, but it helped to clear away the haze that had begun to inhibit her thoughts, forced a lungful of air into her chest, evened out the staccato rhythm of her heart.

Breathe.  That’s all she had to do.  Everything would be okay.

After a few more facefuls of water and the warmth of a luxuriously fluffy towel, Cassie turned to exit the bathroom, making a beeline for the bed awaiting her in the center of the room, suddenly very aware of the aching muscles in her legs.  The temptation to crawl beneath the covers and succumb to the sweet oblivion of sleep was overwhelming, the events of the day seeming to almost physically weigh her down, every step heavier and less sure than the last.  But that nervous thrum still pumped through her veins, keeping her on her feet, pulling her muscles uncomfortably taut beneath her skin.

A burst of cold air had her wrapping her arms around herself as she crossed the room.  Strange, considering the fact that she thought for sure the air conditioner had been off when she came in, but for all she knew the hotel had it set to automatically come on when the room reached above a certain temperature.

Except she couldn’t hear the telltale rumbling of an air conditioner working its magic.  In fact, the room was oddly silent minus the honk of car horns and the wail of distant sirens as they drifted up from the streets below.  Far below.

She glanced over toward the single, wall length window, the gauzy, transparent curtains drawn and just as she had left them when she had first entered the room, the light material billowing and swaying at the slightest hint of a breeze—

Wait.  Breeze?

Hotel windows couldn’t be opened.  They were less windows and more just panes of glass welded into place along the exterior of the building.

Cassie tentatively stepped forward, pulling aside the curtain to find… nothing.  Which was precisely the problem.

That welded in place pane of glass was  _gone_.

She backed away from the window and the open air beyond it, the mere idea of the seventeen story drop that awaited her outside giving her a terrible case of vertigo.  Even as her mind went blank, she was keenly aware of the lack of glass shards littering the floor, of the fact that she hadn’t heard a goddamn thing that suggested the window had somehow become dislodged from its place and fallen to the streets below.  

Unless it had been purposely removed.

It was at that moment she heard it—the soft, mechanical whine of gears grinding against each other accompanied by the metallic  _clank_  of steel on steel.  She spun on her heels just in time to see the hulking form of a man dressed in black barreling toward her from the far corner of the room, the glint of a knife in his gloved hand.

A weak, breathless scream was all she managed as she dropped to her knees, the  _whoosh_ of the knife passing over her head deafening in her ears.  As fast as her legs would let her, she rolled to the side before stumbling to her feet, barely giving herself enough leeway to avoid the man’s grasp.

She was only too aware of the fact that whoever the fuck this was had put himself between her and her only exit.  The door lay at the direct opposite side of the room from where she stood, with both the bed and this assassin—Hitman?  Gun for hire?  Mercenary?—between her and any semblance of help.

Which meant she had a very limited window of opportunity to get herself to that door.

The man wasted no time closing the distance between them, his every step disturbingly silent as he prowled toward her.  That bizarre sound of grinding gears reached her ears again as he swung his arm toward her, clearly trying to herd her into a corner.

With few options, Cassie let him try to grab for her, just barely ducking out of the way and dashing out of his reach toward the bed.  Using the mattress as a springboard, she leapt atop the bed and propelled herself forward, managing to cut a precious few seconds off of her race to safety.  She landed hard, nearly falling face first on the floor as pain shot up her shins and into her knees.  She was nearly there, just a few more strides, a handful of breaths, several pounding heartbeats—

A sharp jolt of pain ripped through her skull as her assailant knotted his fingers in her long, dark hair, tearing a shriek from the very bowels of her abdomen that left her throat feeling hoarse.  

No.  No, no, no,  _no_.  Not this.  Not like this.  She was so close.  So goddamn close.

He yanked her back from the door with enough force to send a ripple of agony skittering down her neck and into her shoulders, her scalp practically screaming as she fought against his hold.  Her hands shot up to claw fruitlessly at his wrist, her nails digging into something hard, something…

Her heart stopped mid-beat and her eyes went wide, her stomach turning to lead as a terrible realization came roaring to the forefront of her mind.

Metal.  Something metal.

With one final, vicious tug, he sent her stumbling backwards, placing himself firmly between her and the door once more as she fell to the floor with a muted  _thud_.  She tried to push herself to her feet, to try one more mad dash for the door, but before she could so much as get her trembling arms beneath her, he was upon her, straddling her hips and pinning her in place with a cold,  _metal_  hand to her throat.

It was only then that she really noticed his left arm.  That glint of metal in his hand hadn’t been a knife, it had been his actual, real hand peeking through the black fingerless gloves he wore.  The light from the bedside table glinted brightly off the metal that made up the entirety of his arm all the way up to the shoulder, the various gears and steel plating shifting and grinding against each other as he held her in place.

Her eyes darted from his arm up to his face, their newfound proximity finally allowing her a good look at her attacker.  Beneath the long, dark curtain of hair, his features were mostly obscured by a black mask that covered the lower half of his face up to the bridge of his nose.  Only his eyes were visible, but it was those eyes that left her feeling cold and numb.

They were a vibrant, arctic blue, the color of the northernmost oceans in the dead of night, promising an agonizing death at the hands of the crushing depths beneath the waves.

And they were locked on hers, a wild ruthlessness bleeding into that vast, haunting gaze.

Cassie swallowed hard, the joints in his fingers pinching painfully at the flesh of her neck as he tightened his hold, her breathing coming in short, choking gasps.  She reached up to tear at that metal arm again, her nails breaking and cracking as she attempted to wrench his hand from her throat, desperate for a lungful of air.

But none of this was enough to kill her, not even enough to knock her out.  It was just enough to drain the fight out of her, to keep her still and, more importantly, silent.  

If she was going to do something, it had to be now.

Without giving herself a chance to really think about it, she shifted her knees up slightly so her feet were flat on the floor, hooking her left leg over his right.  Holding that damned metal hand in place on her throat with her left hand, she hefted her hips off the floor with as much force as she could muster.

His eyes went wide as she threw him to her left, a soft grunt escaping the man upon hitting the floor.  Cassie rolled with him until she was the one perched above him, her attacker flat on his back and vulnerable.  The bedside table now within reach, she quickly grabbed for the ceramic lamp that sat atop it, hefting its considerable weight off the tabletop to drop on her assailant’s face.

Or, at least, that had been the intention.

The man released his hold on her throat to slap the lamp out of her hand, sending it crashing into the wall in a thunderous shower of glass shards as his flesh and blood hand snatched her wrist in his grasp, attempting to keep her from fleeing for the door.  Clasping her entrapped hand within her free one, she twisted the wrist he held until the thinnest part sat where his thumb just barely met his fingers—and where his grip was weakest.  

She tugged, her wrist sliding from his hold with surprising ease.  The momentum sent her flying backwards and left her sprawled on her back not a foot from where her attacker was already sitting up, reaching for her.  She scrambled to climb to her feet, to make another run for the door, when she felt that cold, metal hand wrap itself around her ankle, tugging her backwards.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked, clawing at the carpeting as she kicked out at his face.  She made contact more than once, but he held fast, pulling her back toward him with an ease that hinted at an impossible, superhuman strength.

Before she could think to flip herself over onto her back, to give herself the slightest chance of getting out from under him again, he had already grabbed for the scruff of her neck.  The feel of his flesh against her own was jarring as he lifted her to her feet by the throat, throwing her against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of her.

He didn’t give her the chance to recover, to so much as suck in a single breath of air before he was upon her, his metal hand wrapping itself around her throat again and holding her in place against the wall.  Panic and lack of oxygen began to blacken the edges of her vision as she instinctively grabbed at his wrist, her struggles far weaker than they had been just a few seconds earlier.

“Please.” Her voice was little more than a breathless whisper, fresh tears burning her eyes as they threatened to overflow.  “Please, I don’t know anything—”

Pain blossomed along her cheek and into her jaw before she even registered the backhanded slap, the coppery tang of blood filling her mouth as stars danced before her vision, chasing away the inviting blackness that threatened to overtake her.

“I told him everything—” A sharp jab to her side, a sickening crack resounding through her body that left her crying out in agony.

Desperation took hold, her voice a ragged, broken thing as her head swam. “What do you want—”

Another punch, this time slightly to the right, away from her ribs and toward the unprotected organs in her abdomen.  The hit left her unable to speak, forcing her body to sag in his grasp as her legs threatened to give out.  But he held firm, his metal hand keeping her pinned to the wall as his grip tightened a fraction.

A very small, very dim part of her mind registered that all of this was being done with his normal, _human_  arm.  What the hell could he do to her with the one holding her in place?

She struggled to swallow, the movement impeded by the grip on her neck.  Who the hell had Pierce sent after her?

Her vision blurred, though whether it was from the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks or her consciousness beginning to fade, she couldn’t tell.  She almost wished the man before her would let her black out, let the pain sweep her away on a wave of dark, swirling black—but that was a kindness she wasn’t sure he was capable of.

He looked ready to strike again, his right arm poised to make another jab for her side when something made him freeze, his head snapping toward the door only a few feet from where they stood.  Cassie’s gaze flitted between the door and her assailant, her pulse roaring in her ears as she struggled to make out whatever had diverted his attention from her.

A heavy, lazy knock on the door broke the thick silence, causing them both to flinch.

“Excuse me, miss,” a muffled, very tired sounding voice came from the other side, clearly annoyed that they had to do this at all.  “Is everything all right in there?  We’ve received a few noise complaints from other guests.”

Her attacker tensed, his gaze intent on the door.  She watched him carefully, watched how his brow furrowed slightly, how his eyes seemed to strain to see through the thick wood and out into the hallway, as if he was weighing all of his options in just a few heartbeats.

Another knock, this one a bit more insistent, and plenty more exasperated.  “Miss, please, I know you’re in there.”

The man’s attention remained fixed on the same spot, his body wound tight enough to spring into motion at even the slightest sign of trouble.  Cassie didn’t dare to move, hardly dared to breathe her desperate, wheezing gasps for fear of setting him off.  As much as her mind screamed for her to yell, shriek, beg for help, the fear of her captor ripping out her throat or snapping her neck kept her quiet and still.

An aggravated sigh sounded from the hallway, and a series of agitated knocks followed.  “Ma’am, if you don’t come to the door we will be forced to call the police and have you removed from your room.”

That seemed to trigger something in him, his vast, haunting eyes flitting back to meet hers, as if measuring her up, assessing his prey.  It was unnerving in a way that she couldn’t explain, even after everything that had occurred in these few short minutes.  It was as if he wasn’t looking at her as a person, or even as a victim, but as a thing.

As a target.

He must have come to a decision, because with one last, swift jab to her stomach, forcing what little bit of air she managed to take in out of her lungs, he released her, and she fell to the floor with a muted  _thump_ , whatever strength she had managed to retain leaving her.

Cassie rubbed at her throat as she coughed and wheezed and gagged, every intake of breath and dry cough causing a sharp, throbbing pain to reverberate from her side.  She absolutely had at least one broken rib, if not more, and the blood still oozing from that ridiculously strong slap to her face left her unable to tell if the blood she spat up on the beige carpeting was from her mouth or a punctured lung.

But she couldn’t think about that, couldn’t let her mind wander to what it would mean.  At least not right now, not when she was still trapped in the room with the man responsible.

She looked up and around the room from where she lay sprawled on the floor, searching for any sign of the masked intruder.

But there was nothing.  Just the transparent, swaying curtains and a thick, heavy silence, interrupted only by the continued knocking at the door.

“Ma’am, this is your final warning,” said the voice on the other side of the door, their irritation clear.

Cassie looked back and forth between the door and the seemingly empty room, debating.  He might not be gone, he might just be hiding, waiting in some unseen corner to see what she would do.

Or he really was gone and she was squandering her one shot at help.

Setting her jaw, she dragged herself toward the door, every movement sending a pain like searing fire rocketing up her side and into her chest.  Her limbs felt stiff and she was moving slow, too slow. What if they left before she could get to the door? What if they simply claimed to have spoken to her about the noise complaints?

She pushed the thoughts back, allowing a strange numbness to settle over her frayed mind.  She just had to move, had to ignore the pain and panic, had push through it.

With one final grunt, she reached the off-white door, its sturdy, smooth surface cool against her feverish skin as she leaned against it, reaching for the door handle.  The pain was nearly unbearable as she extended her arm.  Sweat beaded along her forehead and at the base of her neck as she fought the ring of black that once again threatened to overtake her vision.  

She had come this far, survived this much, she couldn’t fall short now.  Not when help was within her reach, less than an arm’s length away.

Her fingers made contact with the cool, metal handle, and she almost recoiled at the feel of it.  Too similar to that metal hand, as cold as the icy depths of those eyes.

She wrapped her fingers around the handle and tugged as hard as she could, letting out a strangled cry of relief as the door flung open, revealing a very startled young man dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants, a name tag of some sort pinned to his chest.

“M—Miss?” He looked alarmed, and vaguely panic stricken, as he took in her haggard, bloodied state, his wide eyes darting behind her to the room beyond.

Cassie took a few wheezing breaths before she spoke, her voice little more than a whistling gasp as blood dripped from the side of her mouth, her body swaying with the effort to remain sitting up.  “Help me.”

And then she slumped to the floor, at last embracing the beckoning darkness with a relieved sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaayyyy I'm still here and finally continuing this! This is gonna be a real slow burn here, fellas. And nothing quite so action-y as what happened in the first chapter happens here.
> 
> But it's unfortunately necessary.
> 
> As a big fat apology far taking so long between chapters, have the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/43kiMEbcxfG7VmCTKGEezP?si=mQf05zRXTTiHgTliwuT0yw) I use to write this fic.
> 
> If you're reading this, I want only good things for you in life.

A muffled, rhythmic beeping dragged Cassie from the depths of a dreamless abyss.It sounded distant at first.A vague, annoying, _constant_ sound that permeated the peaceful void she had settled into.She tried to ignore it, enjoying the eternal nothingness that surrounded her, far too tired to bother investigating—but it continued, growing louder and louder with every high pitched beep until she found her eyes fluttering open, a low groan pushing through her lips as she squinted against the blinding morning light.

She winced, her throat burning from the simple, wordless vocalization.She hoped she wasn’t getting sick.She’d have to hole up in her room for the rest of her time in D.C.—

Cassie’s eyes snapped open fully, her vision blurry and unfocused, but still she could see her surroundings were nothing familiar; definitely not the cozy hotel room she’d called home for the last few days.Her jaw hurt, the entire right side of her face seeming to throb along with each measured beat of her heart.Reaching up, she inhaled sharply as her fingers came in contact with the swollen flesh of her cheek, only to cry out as a terrible, piercing pain shot through her side with the movement.

“Oh, God,” she whimpered, her beaten and abused body bringing her memory into sharp focus.

Steve.Pierce.Her hotel room.The window.The man in black.

She attempted to swallow, her mouth dry and tasting of copper, but the minute motion caused her neck muscles to protest painfully.The sensation of that cold, metal hand wrapping around her throat like a phantom touch along her skin.

She was vaguely aware of that beeping growing louder, faster as she fought to take in air, every breath like a thousand knives slicing through her side, digging mercilessly into the muscle and bone.For a brief, terrifying moment, she thought that maybe she had been brought to some secret SHIELD holding center for observation, or maybe as leverage to get Steve to come out of hiding.But there were no guards in sight, no bindings on her wrists.No man in black looming in the corner to keep her in line.

No, she was safe.She was okay.She repeated the mantra over and over again in her head, but still her breathing refused to even out, her heart hammering against her ribs as its echo resounded throughout the room in loud, rapid, _maddening_ beeps.

Her gaze flitted about the room, fighting to focus through the haze of panic and unshed tears.The walls were beige, the ceiling white, the far wall a curtainless window that revealed tall buildings rimmed by the light of an early morning sun.And beside her bed was a heart monitor—the source of that damned beeping—as well as an IV pole, the clear, plastic bag hooked onto it nearly empty, its tubing attached to her left arm.

She looked down at herself, squinting through the blur she had yet to shake from her vision.White sheets were pulled up to her waist, and a thin, pale blue hospital gown replaced the jeans and t-shirt she had started out her day with.Well, that she started out yesterday with.Or the day before.

Her hands grew cold and clammy as they began to tremble.How long had she been out?

Rapid footfalls reached Cassie’s ears just before a young, dark haired woman in muted pink scrubs came through the doorway.A kind smile lit up her initially severe features as she approached Cassie’s bed.“Oh, good!You’re up.”

“How long was I out?” she croaked, the words tumbling out of Cassie’s mouth in a slurred rush.She gently touched at her lip with a shaking hand, hissing as she felt the tender, swollen flesh.

The woman made her away around the bed toward the heart monitor, adjusting the settings until the beeping stopped.Cassie felt some of the tension leave her body.“You were only just brought in last night.I’m sure it feels longer to you, though.”

“Honestly?Time’s a bit foggy right now.”She gestured toward the window, the tremors beginning to subside.“All I knew was the last time I was conscious, it was dark out.”

“That’s fair,” the woman said, leaning forward to get a look at Cassie’s face.“How are you feeling?The other nurses told me it was a break-in.”

Cassie was silent, her eyes trained on the paper hospital bracelet around her wrist.The beginnings of a bruise had begun to form there, right where that man’s hand had grabbed ahold of her.The heart monitor beeped out a warning.“It was.Of a sort.”She took in a deep breath and immediately regretted it.“Well, everything hurts.But I’m sure you want something more specific than that.”

The nurse shook her head, gently taking Cassie’s chin in hand as she examined the swelling.“I expected as much.The pain meds are probably starting to wear off.”She released her hold and pulled back the sheets to examine Cassie’s side.Looking down, Cassie saw a mess of black and blue splattered across her abdomen.Another wave of panic washed over her.

“Is there any bleeding?”Cassie’s voice shook, her hands grasping for the metal bars on either side of the bed.She recoiled at the feeling of its cold, hard surface against her palms, settling instead on curling her hands into tight fists as she let them fall back down to the mattress.The nurse looked up, her brow furrowed.“Internally, I mean.”

“Oh, not at all,” she said before looking back down at the bruise, prodding at the flesh and eliciting a muted cry from Cassie.“Sorry.But no, there isn’t.At least from what they saw last night, but we’ll keep an eye on you.”Another warning beep from the heart monitor as Cassie’s breathing quickened.The nurse patted at Cassie’s hand as she pulled the sheets back up.“Relax.You’re fine.And very lucky, from what it looks like.A cracked rib and some bruising, that’s all it is.”

Cassie swallowed as the nurse moved about the room.She dared to wet her swollen lips before she spoke, tasting the metallic tang of blood on her tongue.She already knew the answer to her question.“Did they catch him?”

The nurse fell silent for a beat, examining the nearly empty IV bag.“Not that I’ve heard, no.”

Cassie glanced toward the doorway, as if she half expected to see that masked man standing there, his metal arm glinting in the fluorescent lighting, ready to finish what he started.

“But you’ll be safe here,” the woman quickly added.“Security’s been pretty tight the last few days.Nobody’s getting in without authorization.You just rest, all right?”

Cassie forced herself to drag her gaze from the doorway, attempting a small smile.A harder task than one would think when your face feels like it’s the size of a melon.“Yeah.”

The nurse nodded.“Let me know if you need anything.”She moved to head out, but paused mid-step, kneeling down beside the bed.“Ah, I almost forgot.The EMTs managed to nab some of your things.”She pushed herself to her feet, placing Cassie’s black purse on the bed.“Figured you might have something in there to keep your mind off of everything.”

Cassie’s smile was a bit more genuine this time.“Thanks.” 

At that, the nurse nodded, turning to leave.Cassie wasted no time before she started to rummage around in her bag.Wallet.Charger.Old ATM receipts.Various junk that should have long since been tossed in the trash.A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. 

“Uh, nurse?” she called, her voice cracking slightly.

The high-pitched squeak of sneakers coming to a sudden stop on tile flooring pierced the constant murmur of hospital activity.A second later, the nurse poked her head back in.“Yes?”

“Did my phone fall out on the floor?It’s not in my bag.”Cassie smiled apologetically.“I’d look myself, but I don’t think my ribs would agree with me.”

The nurse’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stooped into a crouch, glancing under the bed.“Sorry, hon.Doesn’t look like it.The cops might’ve swiped it for evidence.”

Cassie’s blood turned to ice in her veins as she watched the nurse leave the room.

She knew who had her phone, and it definitely wasn’t the police.

 

* * *

 

Cassie stared at the plain, circular clock that hung on the wall directly across from her bed, the second hand haltingly making its rotation along the clock’s face as the sun crept its way up into the bright blue sky.It had barely been four hours since she’d woken up, but it may as well have been forty.

The nurse had told Cassie to get some rest, but clearly she’d never tried to sleep in a hospital.

Even with the constant flow of pain meds her IV provided, Cassie couldn’t get comfortable if her life depended on it.The slightest shift of her body caused a jolt of pain that left her feeling paralyzed and breathless; and when she finally managed to find a comfortable position and started to doze, that was usually when a nurse decided to come in to check her vitals, her IV, or draw blood.Compound all of that with the constant, nagging fear that an assassin was going to burst through the window to snap her neck, rest was a distant fantasy that she doubted she’d ever experience again.

Cassie sighed, wincing as her cracked rib objected rather plainly to the large exhale, her eyes drifting to the purse tucked in next to her thigh.She really wasn’t sure what to make of her missing phone.The nurse could be right.It was entirely possible the police had taken it for evidence, or maybe it was still sitting on the bed right where she had tossed it, the inept forensics intern completely missing it in his examination of the room.Or maybe someone in the hospital stole it.She’d been completely dead to the world and alone in this room for hours, it wouldn’t have been hard for someone to duck in and grab it. 

But after everything that happened yesterday, she knew better than to be that naive, that hopeful.Her attacker could have easily snatched it as he fled the room, especially if he had seen her toss it.

A shiver shot down her spine.How long had he been watching her?Had he been sent to follow her the moment she left Pierce’s office?Or had he been waiting for her to get back to her room, perched atop the hotel roof as he scanned the throngs of people crowding the D.C. streets?

Cassie shook her head, the movement making her vision swim.It was probably best she didn’t think about that right now.

Either way, there was nothing on her phone that would be of any use to Pierce, especially if SHIELD had already managed to hack it remotely. 

… Unless it was to keep her from contacting anyone.

It had been years since she had to memorize a phone number of any kind, all thanks to the wonders of modern technology.It’d be safe to assume that she didn’t exactly have the contact information of possible Captain America sympathizers memorized, let alone anyone else that might be able to get her out of this city and away from SHIELD.The only phone numbers she knew by heart these days were her childhood home’s landline and her own.

Until yesterday, she had no reason to think she needed to remember anything else.

And Pierce would know that.

A dull ache formed along her jaw as she grit her teeth, her hands fisting at the pristine, white sheets.A deep resentment suddenly sparked to life in her gut, burning away the constant fear and panic that had taken root in her chest yesterday afternoon.The idea that Pierce could be so cold as to cut off her one link to the outside world as she lay in a hospital bed, battered and bruised and utterly unable to leave of her own accord, was… _infuriating_.

If Alexander Pierce wanted to hold her prisoner, hold her _hostage_ , he could’ve at least had the balls to do it himself with SHIELD’s official stamp of approval.This illusion of freedom, of just narrowly escaping capture and inevitable further torture, was worse than being locked in one of the Triskelion’s prison cells.At least then she would’ve known what she was dealing with, what to expect whenever someone walked through her cell door.

The intercom crackled to life somewhere out in the hall, calling some resident or visitor to the nurses station.Cassie scowled, her head pounding with the desperate need for sleep.Maybe she could’ve gotten some in that secret SHIELD prison, too.

Her gaze drifted toward the window, though she found she couldn’t bring herself to look for long.A terrible, gnawing fear prickled at the base of her skull as she scanned the thick glass set into the wall.It was far too similar to the window back in her hotel room.If it weren’t for the various visible handprints and smudges from the room’s previous occupants, she might have found herself on her feet with her hand pressed against the window every five minutes, ensuring that the pane of glass was still in place.That no one had managed to remove it as she dozed.

She huffed in aggravation, her heart stuttering in her chest as her eyes moved back to that damn clock.If she listened close enough, she could hear each tick of the second hand over the hospital’s constant din as it continued its journey along that bland, white surface.

A minute passed.

Then another.

And another.

Each one slower than the last.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock_ …

“Oh, fuck this,” Cassie finally hissed, kicking off the thin sheet with much more force than she intended—and immediately regretted the impulse.  Her eyes watered as she fought to bite back a sharp bark of pain, her hands clutching at the bedding hard enough to cause her nail beds to sting. While the initial, overwhelming pang subsided after a moment, a dull ache remained, making breathing a bit more difficult than it probably should’ve been.

She really needed to talk to the doctor about upping the pain med dosage.

Much more carefully this time, Cassie eased herself out of the bed.  Each movement was slow and halting, interrupted by the occasional pained hiss.  She probably shouldn’t have been doing this alone, but she also didn’t particularly feel like being manhandled by a couple of nurses.  She didn’t particularly feel like being touched by anyone at all.

Grasping for the IV pole, she managed to stand up straight.Well, mostly straight.She wouldn’t be winning any etiquette awards for posture anytime soon, that was for sure.At least whoever had put her in this stupid hospital gown had thought to give her a pair of thick, gray socks.Aside from the tile probably being uncomfortably cool, she didn’t even want to think about what kind of shit had been spilled on these floors.No amount of bleach was going to make walking barefoot in a hospital ideal.

Using the IV pole for support, Cassie slowly made her way around the bed, but quickly found that she felt the jittery, constant need to look over her shoulder toward the window as she walked.Every time she turned her head to move forward, her chest would tighten, and the image of that window shattering into a million razor sharp shards of thick glass flashed before her eyes—and so she looked back once again. 

And again. 

And again.

Her slow, hesitant steps coupled with the urge to keep an eye on that vast expanse of uncovered window meant she didn’t make it far at all before she was out of breath and exhausted.

So, she settled for sitting toward the foot of the bed, facing the window.

It was stupid, of course.Whether she was laying in bed or hobbling her way toward the hallway, nothing would stop SHIELD from taking her out if they really wanted to.Hell, that assassin could be positioned on top of the office building right outside her window, his scope trained on her and ready to fire as soon as the order was given.

At that thought, she chanced a glance out the window toward the roof of the building, an embarrassing rush of relief washing over her as she saw neither a human shaped black blob nor the glint of a sniper rifle on top of the building.

She buried her face in her hands and allowed herself a single, quiet groan.

She _really_ needed to get ahold of herself.

“Hey, what are you doing out of bed?”

Cassie flinched as the nurse from that morning walked in, her voice somehow both admonishing and impressed at the same time.She dropped her hands back into her lap.“Sorry, I was going a bit stir crazy.I thought I’d try to walk down to the nurses station to stretch my legs, but that might’ve been a bit too ambitious.”

The nurse nodded sympathetically.“I get that.Just do me a favor and try not to do anything too strenuous without flagging one of us down.We don’t want to add a concussion to your chart.”

A weak laugh was all Cassie could manage as she looked down at her feet.“We sure don’t.”

“Anyway,” the nurse said, “I was just coming to check on you.A pair of detectives just got here looking to talk to you about last night.”

Cassie’s head shot up, nausea rippling through her gut as a wave of dizziness overcame her with the sudden movement.She couldn’t even pretend to keep the panic from her voice.“What?”

“They just need your statement,” the nurse soothed.“It’s entirely normal.They need to know exactly what they’re looking for.”

 _Or they’re here on Pierce’s orders_.“I… I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

The other woman’s brow furrowed, the impassive mask of neutrality starting to crack as genuine concern began to show on her face.“The longer you wait, the less of a chance they’ll have of catching him.You need to talk to them while the details are still fresh before this guy goes after someone else.”

Cassie’s hands began to shake, a terrible chill settling into the very marrow of her bones.  She didn’t understand. She couldn’t possibly understand. “Please,” she pleaded, her throat tight as she fought to keep the utter desperation from her voice.  She failed miserably. “I can’t do it. Not now. I can’t talk to them. Please. Please, just tell them I’m sleeping or I’m in with the doctor or _something_ , please—”

“Okay, okay.”The nurse came to sit beside her, placing a careful hand on Cassie’s back.“Breathe, okay?I’d say take deep breaths, but that wouldn’t be entirely helpful in your case, would it?”

Cassie found herself laughing, though it was cut off by a whimper.It wasn’t funny, but if she didn’t laugh, she was going to start outright sobbing.

“Listen,” the nurse began, “I’ll tell them that you finally fell asleep after a rough morning and that they should come back later.It might not work and they still might demand to see you, but I’ll try.”

If it wouldn’t hurt so much, Cassie would have hugged her.“Really?Oh, thank you.Thank you _so,_ so much.”

The nurse’s smile was tight and strained.“You’ll have to talk to them eventually.If not for your own sake, then for everyone else out there.We can’t have a guy like that roaming around.The fact that you survived was a miracle, and his next victim might not be so lucky.”

Cassie so wanted it to be that simple.It would mean last night was it, that she had nothing else to worry about from this point forward.But how did one explain that it was not merely a break in, but a hit by a government organization, and the very cops that were supposedly here to help deal out justice might _actually_ be agents for that very government organization?Also, they were in the middle of a manhunt for _the_ Captain America, and you were their one link to where he could possibly be hiding out. 

How did one explain all of that _without_ coming across as absolutely batshit insane?

The answer was simple: you didn’t.

Instead, Cassie forced a shy smile onto her lips and nodded, hoping that the terror pumping through her veins was not as evident as it felt.

“Good.”The nurse stood, her hands on her hips as she surveyed her patient, a crooked, thoughtful smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.“Y’know, I might have some spare scrubs in the break room that I can lend you.They may be a bit big on you, but they have to be better than that pathetic strip of toilet paper we insist on using.”

Cassie immediately shook her head.“No, no, I couldn’t possibly—”

The woman merely waved off her protests.“It’s nothing.I have a ton of them.You never know when you'll need a change of clothes in this place, so I make sure I’m well stocked.”Her smile faltered slightly.“You’ll be more comfortable and you’ll probably feel better about moving around the floor.Or even your room, honestly.We haven’t gotten around to outfitting this wing with curtains yet, apparently.”

Cassie felt her chest tighten.All of her points were valid, but Cassie knew what the nurse was trying to say without her actually saying it: her patient was from out of town with no family or friends in the area to speak of—which meant that she didn’t even have anyone to bring her a change of clothes.

Were it not for the fact that the gesture made Cassie’s terrible vulnerability abundantly clear, she might have teared up a bit.But she just felt cold—and suddenly craved the security of a real, functional set of clothes.

“Thank you.Honestly.”Cassie tried to force the slightest bit of cheer into her voice, but found that it did little more than make her sound very tired.“I’ll find a way to pay you back.I promise.”

The nurse just shook her head.“No need.I’ll be back in a bit once I finish my rounds.Try to get some rest, okay?”

Cassie scoffed.“That’s not happening.I’ve been trying, but this place is very loud and very busy.”

The woman glanced up toward the old, black TV mounted in the corner of the room, its boxy screen dark and reflecting the room’s occupants like ghostly silhouettes.“Why don’t you at least have that on?”

Cassie held up her hand, rubbing her thumb and forefingers together.“I know how things work around here.”

The nurse snort-laughed and moved toward the small table that sat to the right side of the bed, picking up a plastic-wrapped TV remote.“Between you and me,” she whispered, “sometimes they forget to cut off the signal from the last patient.”She handed Cassie the remote, winking at her as she turned to leave the room, calling over her shoulder,“I’ll be back in about an hour.”

As Cassie watched the nurse leave, she felt the panic that had taken hold begin to drain away, her trembling hands going still.For the first time since that damned phone call yesterday afternoon, she felt a little less alone.

She could only hope it would last.

Glancing down at the small, black remote, Cassie shrugged.It was worth a shot, right?If it didn’t work, she was no worse off than she was five minutes ago.

With the quiet crinkle of well-worn plastic, Cassie raised the remote to point it toward the TV and pressed the power button, unable to keep the delighted smile from her face when it actually came to life—but that smile quickly vanished and morphed into a look of abject horror as she registered what she was seeing on that small screen.

The news was on, the bright red headline box at the bottom of the screen reading: ‘BREAKING NEWS: GUNMEN OPEN FIRE ON D.C. CAUSEWAY.’The voice of a female reporter droned on about the situation, her narration accompanied by aerial footage of Steve Rogers on his knees in the middle of the street, an assault rifle pointed right at his head.


End file.
